Is there a grace to growing old?

When I look in the mirror I see tired bags under my eyes and gray in my hair. I just spend a chunk of my hard-earned cash on several vials of potions to help my skin look better, less lined and old. And I go to the salon regularly to get my gray covered (it used to be because I wanted blonde hair ... now it's a necessity. Doh!)

I wear sunscreen on my face everyday and wear a hat and sunglasses when possible outdoors. I want to preserve what's left of my youthful skin (of course, I want to avoid more skin cancer, too). Must. Not. Look. Old.

But then I see people like Priscilla Pressley:
and I think, "Why would she do that to herself?" When she talks her upper lip doesn't move, nor does she seem to have much expression in her face. She's 63 years old and she's turned her face into a mask. Is looking old so horrible that we chose this instead?

It seems so.

At lunch today I was watching a show on the CMT station (yeah, I have no excuse for why) where some girls are trying out for a traveling singing and dancing group or something. One of the contestants is 37 (my age) and she looked pretty good, but the judges kept calling her an old dog and suggesting she couldn't learn anything new.

'the hell?

What ever happened to growing old gracefully?